Dad was a little grumpy during my pregnancy. He said it was because the hospital confirmed that we were having a boy and that he wanted a granddaughter. I knew it was really because he realized that he was going to be a grandpa and truly old.
"If you're going to have a boy, you better name him Ozzy," dad grumbled.
"But why?"
"Why not?"
He took up guitar in order to feel young again. I can't blame him there.
My pregnancy went by very quickly, and interrupted my nightly shower. Dad told me to stay put.
It wasn't as bad as I thought. I carried baby Osbourne into the old, pink nursery. In line with dad's wishes, I agreed to call him Ozzy most of the time.
At last, dad came to terms with being a grandfather.
Of course, Thomas was a loving father. We celebrated his 65th birthday soon after Ozzy was born, but it didn't slow him down more than usual. He still worked at the police station during the day. It was perfectly possible since dad had nothing left to do other than babysit.
Happily for the rest of the household, Felix finally found romance. Probably not true love, but a nice kiss in the snow with Lindsay Jones-Brown. With seven of us in the house, I was hoping that no one would extend the family in any other way. I realized that I'd have enough of a full house later down the line. Felix was just fine living away from Lindsay; moving in with friends for the rest of his life felt like enough for him.
Though Ozzy was still a baby, I insisted that the adults of the house go to Shang Simla again. I had unfinished business with martial arts, though I finished it there at rank 5.
Felix decided to progress more with sculpting.
Thomas with logic.
Me with more martial arts.
And dad not doing much. He had the visa and said that it wasn't transferable. (Gwen also painted more)
When we returned home, I was happy to be back in Twinbrook, but life was pretty mundane there.
For Felix, it was about to change.
At first, Gwen was happy to return home. Peter celebrated his fifth birthday the next day, and he was even more like his mother.
Artsy.
And fearless.
But soon after that, Gwen got a somber phone call from Charmaine, Tim's roommate. It was something she should have expected, but still didn't. Tim Burre died in his sleep that night. As sorry as I felt for her, dad and I agreed that she should have seen the cycle of tragic Racket widows continue the moment she had her first kiss with Tim. We made sure not to tell her our opinions.
I didn't have a reason to be sad. Ozzy was growing up. Between his beautiful expressions and adorable dark eyes from grandpa Robert, nothing could bring me down. Dad was just happy that he could still identify Ozzy as a Grave.
Between his father's death and having a new toddler in the house, I wondered how Peter would fare. After all, he was just a kid.
In fact, he loved playing with Ozzy and handled him with incredible patience and joy.
When I exercised in the nursery between feeding Ozzy, I would always hear the two of them playing. Maybe not as equals, but it was the closest either of them would get to having a sibling.
The more I saw of them, the more I regretted not having a girl.